


Leave It Outside

by onlyastoryteller



Series: A Room For The Night [7]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Infidelity, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyastoryteller/pseuds/onlyastoryteller
Summary: They aren’t supposed to talk about it. Ever.





	Leave It Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired several months ago by a conversation with is-it-a-vide0, this finally found its spot with the Venice FF approaching and Armie’s angsty song tweet. 
> 
> Enjoy. 100% fiction. Probably.

Outside, the rain splattered against the windows in irregular sheets. The wind rattled the panes ominously as it howled its passage, shaking majestic trees like pom-poms and bending saplings to their knees. It was the kind of late-summer storm that heated the air rather than cooled it, and that left a haze of gauzy moisture hanging long after the rain had ended. 

Inside the hotel room, the lights flickered, and the clock on the bedside table began to flash midnight more than two hours early, a blinking red reminder that time would continue to pass even if it seemed as though it wasn’t. 

Armie ignored all of this, outside and inside, and focused instead on the man currently dozing in his arms. He held his long, thin limbs close, letting his own body heat warm skin that always seemed a little chilled. 

He frowned. 

It had been a long day. Week. Month. Year. Thinking over the time, knowing he had spent too little of it just like this, left a taste in his mouth that he wished wasn’t so bitter.

There was no help for it. With their careers, their _ lives_, such as they were, they had to be content with stolen moments. An hour here, a night, a day, maybe two, always surrounded by a hundred times as many moments apart. What they had was not enough to live on, any more than a man could survive on a few crumbs every other day. Their true time was time hidden away, disguised, never spoken of in other company.

Swallowing back the bitterness, he threaded his fingers through Tim’s hair, down his neck and spine, and nuzzled into his cheek. There was nothing he could do but take what he could when it was offered. He knew he had to be happy to have even that. To question it was to threaten it. 

And yet...

At his touch, Tim drew in a deep breath, and his eyes blinked open lazily. He smiled. 

“Did I fall asleep?” His voice was rusty, thick with having been on the verge of a deeper slumber. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Armie said. He swiped his thumb along Tim’s cheekbone, then chased it with his lips. “It was only a minute.”

“We don’t have that many minutes,” Tim said, echoing Armie’s thoughts. “I don’t want to sleep tonight. I can sleep on the plane to Venice tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” Armie asked. He smiled, even though his stomach twisted into a knot at the mention of Tim’s impending travel. 

“I guess. I mean, yes. Of course. Nervous kind of. Haven’t done this shit in a while.” Tim shrugged his free shoulder. “I hope I don’t fall out of the boat.”

Armie chuckled at the mental image. “You won’t fall out. Just don’t stand up.”

“What if I’m supposed to? To, like, wave? What if I trip while trying to get out? What if...oh god...what if she wants me to help her out and I fall and we _ both _ end up in the canal—“

Armie closed his mouth over Tim’s to stop his spiral, despite the way his chest ached at the mention of Tim’s costar. Tim sighed into his mouth and relaxed against him once more. 

“Thanks,” he said. “I was being stupid.”

“Not stupid,” Armie said. “Just anxious. I wish I could be there with you. Even if I had to hide in the hotel.”

Tim’s eyes flickered away and then back. “That would be amazing,” he said. 

Armie hadn’t missed the hesitation. He tried to let it go. He really did. He _ wanted _ to let it go.

Instead, he said, “Are you actually sleeping with her?”

Tim froze in his arms, his muscles going rigid and his jaw tightening. The only thing that didn’t go still was his chest, which rose and fell with rapid breaths. 

“Armie,” he said, after a few moments of silence, eyes wide, his voice vibrating with caution, “you’re not supposed to—“

“I know. I’m not supposed to ask about other people. I’m supposed to leave it outside the room.” He closed his eyes, feeling the cold tendrils of nausea slither in his gut. “But I just...I need to know.”

There was a long silence. So long, that after a while, Armie opened his eyes. 

Tim was watching him, his face serious. He pushed himself out of Armie’s embrace and sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. He shoved his hair off of his forehead and frowned. 

“Do you remember _ why _ we don’t talk about this?” Tim asked quietly. 

Armie closed his eyes again, shame coloring his cheeks. “Because I get too upset,” he said. 

Tim sighed. A hand settled on Armie’s collarbone and swept outwards and began to stroke a gentle, soothing rhythm. 

“Yeah. You do. And you can’t. You can’t get upset at me for...entertaining other people. It’s not fair. Not when—“

“When I’m with Elizabeth. I _ know_,” Armie said, clenching his teeth. He forced his eyes open, forced himself to look directly at Tim, at his curls framing his face, his pale skin, his shining eyes. “I know I don’t have a right to keep you to myself. That doesn’t stop me from wanting it. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to throw myself off a bridge at the thought of you with...anyone. But I think it’s worse not knowing for sure.”

Tim’s expression softened slightly. He slid back down, fit his body against Armie’s, tucked his face into Armie’s neck. 

“I know it bothers you,” he said. “I know you get jealous. It’s why we leave it outside. Always.” He kissed the warm, soft skin underneath Armie’s chin. “If I tell you, this one time, can we forget it again? Please? I don’t want to waste our time on this.”

Armie considered that as he brought his palm up to rest on the back of Tim’s head. Could he let it go, if Tim told him the truth? He wasn’t sure. But he said, “Yeah. Okay. Just...please.”

“I have,” Tim said. “Not at the moment, but it has happened. And there have been — are — other women.”

Armie’s fist curled into Tim’s hair, tightened for a moment, and then he let go, trying to find the physical metaphor for what he needed to do. His stomach twisted again, as images flashed in his head, images that he did not want to see.

He took slow, deep breaths, picturing a white background cluttered with objects and then removing the objects one by one to leave behind only the pristine white space. It was a therapy exercise, and it usually worked. He felt his pulse slow, and his muscles began to unclench. When he was done, there was only a light ache in his chest. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, surprised at how calm he sounded, even to his own ears.

“You’re welcome,” Tim murmured. “Now...where were we?”

Tim shifted, pushing Armie onto his back and swinging a leg over to straddle him. He dipped his head down and began to kiss his way around Armie’s chest, nosing at the soft hair and licking around his nipples. Armie shivered at the attention. He was distracted, should allow himself to continue to be distracted, but the light ache in his chest slid lower and deeper and became a gnawing pain in his gut once more. 

When Tim sat up, Armie drew in a breath and said, “What about men?”

Tim stilled. “Armie,” he warned. 

“I can’t let it go. I don’t know why, but I can’t tonight. Tim—“

“No.” Tim shook his head firmly. He moved off of Armie and sat cross-legged on the bed beside him. Armie pushed himself up on one elbow, not liking the way Tim was looking down at him. 

“No?”

“I’m not talking about this. I shouldn’t have even said the other thing.” Tim’s mouth set in a firm line, and Armie felt a small zing of fear. Was he going to push too hard? Come on too strong? Would Tim get up, out of bed, and leave?

It didn’t matter. It was killing him now, to imagine Tim shuddering under another man’s touch, swallowing another man’s cock, riding another man like he rode Armie. The thought of another man’s fingers buried inside Tim, another man hearing his cries...Armie tasted more than bitterness now. Did he let anyone else pull his hair taut, hold his wrists together, press him in to the mattress? It was killing Armie slowly, the acid working its way through each cell of his body, one by one, and the fire made him reckless. 

He sat up as well. “I have to know. You have to tell me. I can’t stop thinking about it, Tim, and it makes me want to…” He trailed off, seeing Tim pale, and realized he was jamming his fist repeatedly into the pillow at his side. He released it carefully, smoothed it out. He closed his eyes and counted, slowly, from ten to one. When he spoke again, he didn’t trust himself and kept his voice to a whisper. “I hate this.”

He waited. Tim didn’t move, didn’t speak. Armie was afraid to open his eyes, afraid to see what he was doing to Tim, to them, because he was fucking up their agreement. 

Then he felt a cool hand on his knee. He opened is eyes and dared a glance up. Tim didn’t look angry. He looked...sad. Was that worse?

“Armie,” he said. “How do you think I feel whenever I think about you with _ her_?”

Armie shook his head. “I’m barely ever with her,” he said. “Just...every once in a while, enough to…” He trailed off. “It’s not that often.”

“You think I’m getting laid every day or something? Look, it’s not that often with me, either. And at least I keep it private, and there’s no one consistent. _ You _ don’t have to see constant Instagram posts and declarations of love and partnership.” Now Tim’s voice dipped into bitterness, and Armie shifted closer. 

“I can’t control that, Tim,” he said. “But you know it’s not really like that. Not anymore.”

“Do I?” Tim blinked at him, and to his horror, he could see the wetness gathering in his eyes. 

“I’m telling you. It’s all...just a performance.”

“Is it a performance to both of you, or just to you?” Tim asked quietly. 

How was it, Armie wondered, that Tim was always able to cut to the absolute core of an issue and ask the hardest questions without even really asking them? He swallowed. 

“I think she feels that it’s not the same as it used to be,” he said, finally. It was the best he could do. 

“Armie.”

The nausea was back, roiling in his stomach. These were minefields they were walking in, where one misstep could blow them both to bits, and he had led them there step by fucking step. 

Tim wasn’t asking about how he felt...he was asking about what Armie would _ do _. Fear sliced through him, an icy knife. When he spoke it felt like he was pushing the words through a meat grinder. 

“I can’t...Tim, you know I can’t walk away. Not _ now_. The kids...my career. _ Your _ career. It’s suicide.”

“So you’ve said.”

“It’s not just me who’s said it, Evelyn—“

Tim heaved a sigh. “And this is why we don’t talk about this. Ever. Unless something changes.” He looked at Armie, his eyes intense. “So...has anything changed?”

_ Yes, _ Armie wanted to say. _ I’ve never loved you more. Being apart from you is worse than the thought of losing everything else. I’ll do it. I’ll go home right now and tell her. We can finally have everything. _

But he shook his head, shoulders sagging. “No,” he whispered, loathing himself for being too weak to stand up and be what he wanted to be. 

He half expected Tim to tell him there was no hope for them, to walk out the door. He didn’t expect Tim to crawl into his lap, lay his head on Armie’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Tim and pulled him close. It immediately made some of the demons that had taken root loosen their grip. A little. 

Tim kissed him, strong and deep. “I love you,” he said. “And if this is what I can have, then I accept that. Can you?”

Armie nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “But not forever. It will change. One day. I promise.”

“I hope so. But until then, we have to—“

“Leave it outside. I know. I’m sorry.” He brushed his lips against Tim’s, gently licked into his mouth before deepening the kiss. He tried to show Tim how sorry he was for upsetting their careful balance. 

Tim pushed him back into the pillows and settled on top of him, fitting their hips together with a gentle glide that made Armie gasp. Tim nuzzled into Armie’s neck and sucked lightly on his Adam’s apple. Armie ran his fingers up and down Tim’s spine. 

“I only love you,” he whispered. “I need you to know that.”

“I do,” Tim murmured. “And I only love you.”

The anxiety Armie had been feeling began to seep out of his pores and dissipate into the air, replaced with the warmth that he only felt when with this man. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Armie said softly, as Tim’s breathing slowed. “It’s still early.”

“I’m not,” Tim said, but his words were slurred. 

They lay in silence for a while, feeling each other’s heart beat, listening to the rain and the wind and feeling safe and protected from the storm outside. 

It was a long while before Tim spoke again. 

“This is the last I’ll say about it,” he whispered, his breath hot on Armie’s neck. “There haven’t been that many women. And I don’t sleep with other men.”

Armie tightened his grip on Tim. Then he rolled them over, pressed his hips down, and captured Tim’s mouth in a deep kiss. Tim moaned. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I know I don’t have the right—“ 

“You do,” Tim said. “I give you the right. And I don't want any other man, anyway, so it’s not a sacrifice. I don’t really want the women, either. They’re a distraction, so I don’t think so much about not being with you. I need that sometimes.” 

The last of the unease that had built up in Armie’s chest evaporated. 

“She knows,” he whispered. “She hasn’t said, exactly, but...she knows. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Don’t,” Tim said. “Don’t make me a promise, because if you can’t keep it we’ll both feel shitty. Can you just...be with me now? While I have you? It’s already…” He glanced at the clock, and his brows furrowed. “That’s not right. What time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Armie said. He kissed Tim again, moved against him, eliciting a shaky sigh. 

“I do wish you could be in Venice with me,” Tim murmured around the kiss. “But at least we’ll have London.”

The clock on the bedside table blinked twelve-thirty-six. Outside, the rain continued to fall. Inside, the lights flickered again, resetting the clock to midnight once more. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m onlyastoryteller on Tumblr if you need to yell at me.


End file.
